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Updated: May 31, 2025
This may have been due to the fierce and bristling appearance of Taterleg, as he humorously declared, or because Hargus was waiting reenforcements from the penal institutions of his own and surrounding states. Taterleg had a good many nights to himself, as a consequence of the security which his grisly exterior had brought.
He stood before Taterleg glowing, his hat off, his short-cut hair glistening with pomatum, showing his teeth like a vicious horse. "You look like you was cut out with a can-opener," he sneered. "Maybe I was, and I've got rough edges on me," Taterleg returned, looking up at him with calculative eye. "Now, Mr.
He looked at her frankly, no deceit in his eyes, but a mild surprise to hear her chide him so. "If I could forget of her what no forgiving soul should remember, I'd feel more like a man," he said. "I thought I thought " she stammered, bending her head, her voice soft and low, "you were grieving for her, Duke. Forgive me." "Taterleg is leaving tonight," he said, overlooking her soft appeal.
The Duke smiled through his grime and dust when he remembered Jedlick lying back in the barber's chair. And old Taterleg, as good as gold and honest as a horse, was itching to be hitting the breeze for Wyoming. Selling the calves would give him the excuse that he had been casting about after for a month. He was writing letters to Nettie; she had sent her picture.
Lambert mended his tire, using an old rubber boot that Taterleg found kicking around camp to plug the big holes in his outer tube. He was for going on then, but Siwash and the others pressed him to stay over the day, to which invitation he yielded without great argument. There was nothing ahead of him but desolation, said Taterleg, a country so rough that it tried a horse to travel it.
To the world that never scaled these crumbling heights, Philbrook's mansion appeared as if it endured independent of those vulgar appendages indeed. "Looks like they've got the barn where the house ought to be," said Taterleg. "I'll bet the wind takes the hide off of a feller up here in the wintertime." "It's about as bleak a place for a house as a man could pick," Lambert agreed.
Taterleg and the girl came out and sat on the green rustic bench at the farther end of the porch. It complained under them; there was talk and low giggling. "We didn't expect to strike anything this soon," Lambert said, his active mind leaping ahead to shape new romance like a magician. "You don't look like the kind of boys that'd shy from a job if it jumped out in the road ahead of you."
"Old Ananias'll have a soft time of it, eatin' chicken and rabbit all winter, nothing to do but milk them couple of cows, no boss to keep her eye on him in a thousand miles." "He's one that'll never want to leave." "Well, it's a good place for a man," Taterleg sighed, "if he ain't got nothin' else to look ahead to.
Taterleg Wilson, the bow-legged camp cook of the Syndicate, circulated himself like a petition to gain consent to this unusual proposal. It was asking a great deal of those men to give up their established diversion, no matter how distinguished the man in whose favor they were requested to stand aside.
At sunset they drew up on a mesa, high above the treeless, broken country through which they had been riding all day, and saw Glendora in the valley below them. "There she is," said Taterleg. "I wonder what we're goin' to run into down, there?"
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